


Cereal

by SuperLeon



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Early Morning Grocery Shopping, F/F, F/M, Fem!Piers, Fem!Piers will take down anyone who gets in the way of her fruity cereal, Genderbending, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperLeon/pseuds/SuperLeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr AU Prompt: "We're both at the grocery store at 3AM and you offered to arm-wrestle me for the last box of cereal" With a bit extra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cereal Brawls

**Author's Note:**

> I had fun writing this so I hope you have fun reading it.

When a grocery store begrudgingly promises a 24 hour cycle, it's because they don't want anyone to take advantage of it. No store wants to showcase their midnight employees; likely a group of teens ranging from high school to the budding freshmen of college, getting a job wherever they had to to pay off heavy loans and keep the tank of their cars at least half full. There was a 50/50 chance of either being greeted with a smile (likely insincere), or a glare, because those poor kids were just as tired and confused as you were at 4 in the morning. But it was the risk every 24-hour place accepted, and kept an arms-length away when they knew they weren't ready for it.

But what business does anyone have at a local grocery store at 4AM (3:55AM, really, but what's the difference)? 

Chris had to ask himself that a million times, getting lost in his half-asleep stupor more than twice on his way to the breakfast isle. To be fair, Jill had work the next day, and she couldn't get off on the right foot if she didn't eat the right cereal in the morning. That was a good reason. He could put the fact that he'd lost the battle of rock-paper-scissors twice behind him if he reasoned it logically instead. He was here in the most sinful hours of the morning on a desperate quest for (artificially) fruit-flavored cereal because Jill needed him to be.

He'd finally found it after a good minute or so of completely skipping over it. It was the last box, and managed to blend in perfectly with the other multi-colored boxes on the aisle. At least it was easy, and he was done.

Or at least he thought so. He was caught off guard by the sound of a shopping cart hurrying closer on its too-old-for-use wheels, and turned just in time to see it and it's rider stop at the end of the aisle. A young woman likely in her early twenties with short hair and what looked like a free sample-- that she'd coaxed from some poor worker this early-- in the hand that wasn't holding on to the cart. She stepped off of the bottom rung of the cart (so full it could support her weight, apparently), and brushed off her sweatpants after giving Chris a quick look over.

"Sorry, that's mine. I must'a left it over here earlier."

Still confused, Chris had enough sense to move out of her reach when she went for the box of cereal. 

"You 'left' it over here?"

"Yeah. I mean, my cart was already full, and I didn't want it to get crushed, so I thought I'd get everything else first before I came back to get it. Makes sense, right?"

He didn't believe her, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he did spare a glance at her now abandoned shopping cart. It was full of microwaveables and a plethora of unhealthy snacks. At the very top, however, there was a bag of grapes.

"I guess so. But can you prove it's yours?"

She finished off the rest of her free sample before answering, watching the cereal more than Chris.

"Uh-huh, just hand it over and I'll show you where I wrote my name."

She held her hand out this time, almost like she believed he would comply.

"Right. Unfortunately, I need this cereal. Maybe you should have just put it in your cart when you had the chance, but you didn't, and it's mine now."

Chris turned on his heel, more than ready to get back to bed and forget about the cereal entirely.

"Hey, wait."

He stopped, however, turning some to at the very least humor the woman that had been holding him up.

"Look, I don't know who you are or why you're so stubborn,"

"I'm Chris."

"Chris? Okay, Chris." She rolled up her sleeves, prompting Chris to turn back to her. "You can call me Piers, and I'm willing to fight you for that cereal."

"Fight me?"

Chris gave her a once over. She was notably shorter than him, and, underneath the baggy clothing, didn't look like much bulk. 

"Yeah. I need that cereal, and I'm gonna get it."

"Look, I'm not about to fight some college girl."

"Alright then. This college girl's about to make you cry."

Chris barely had any time to react when she lunged, low to the ground, taking advantage of the height difference to go for a shot to his ribs. In the midst of blocking it and preparing to try talking her back down, she threw another punch, this one to the opposite side. She was fast.

"Hold on a sec--"

"C'mon Chris," A jab. Whether he was blocking or not, she planned on hitting _something_. "Either you fight me like a man or you give up the cereal."

"You're overreacting! Why do you want this cereal so badly!?"

Rather than answering, she was back on the offensive. With the punches not doing enough for her liking, she went instead for a single-leg take down, successfully getting Chris on the ground. The box of cereal that had started this whole mess slid just out of reach, standing on the sidelines like a willing observer. 

"Give up!"

It was 4AM, where was she getting all of this energy?

Chris caught her next punch as she reared back, doing the same with the other arm before twisting them around her torso. She was basically caught in a bear hug after losing her balance.

"I'll let you go if you promise to stop fighting me."

"If I stop fighting you how'm I gonna get my cereal?"

"You _aren't_."

"Exactly!"

She fought out of his grip just enough to rear back for a headbutt, effectively getting Chris to let her go. With her enemy incapacitated, she hurried over to the box of cereal and picked it up, feeling triumphant.

"Well it wasn't the best fight, but at least I...Wait, shit, are you alright?"

Noticing Chris' still prone form on the ground, the triumphant feeling wilted. Chris covered his face. It wasn't unlikely that his nose was broken, but, more importantly, Jill would be laughing her ass off as soon as she saw him.

"Doesn't matter. Just take your cereal."

"I mean, it's _just_ cereal..."

"I'm not upset about th' cereal, it wasn't even for me. I'm mad because I'm bleeding and I have to go home like this. So, thanks."

"Bleeding? Hold on, let me see."

Putting the cereal on a random shelf, she kneeled down to the still-grounded Chris, putting her hands over his to inspect his wounds.

"Whadda you care? You won your prize fair and square, right?"

"I fought dirty, okay? Now stop being a baby and let me see your stupid nose."

Chris complied, if only to have the ordeal finally over.

"It's not bad. I mean, it's bleeding, yeah, but not broken."

She pinched the bridge of his nose lightly, resulting in having her hand swatted away.

"Don't be a baby. Gimme your phone."

"What, are you mugging me now?"

"I'm gonna give you my number and my address, alright? So if you have to go the hospital or anything I'll cover it. Also, if you want a bowl of cereal, you can come over."

"I told you it wasn't for me."

"Then you can take it back to your wife, or whatever."

"My wife...?"

Chris thought over the statement as Piers reached over him to grab his phone from his pocket. It was handed back after a quick moment, and he finally found the strength to sit up.

"Is Jill your wife?"

She'd looked through his contacts.

"Do you like getting into people's personal business?"

Piers shrugged, standing. Chris' mind went back to the shopping cart, a fair amount of the goods likely melted by now.

"Who're the grapes for?"

"Huh?"'

"Those grapes in your cart. Who are they for?"

"You don't think I eat grapes?"

She looked over the cart. He had a reason to doubt, she supposed, and she didn't miss the casual 'no' as a response.

"They're for my roomate. She loves grapes."

"At 4AM?"

" _Do you like getting into other people's personal business_?"

"It's not the same."

"Whatever, Chris."

When she was smiling instead of tackling him to the ground, she was actually cute.

Grabbing her newly won box of cereal from the shelf, Piers walked back over to her cart and dropped it in without missing a beat.

"Sorry about the mess. Maybe try bargain brand? Anyway, like I said, call if you want any cereal."

Jumping back onto the buggy, she kicked off. 

Chris was left to wonder where his night would have gone had he not lost that game of rock-paper-scissors...as well as why no employees were bothered enough to respond to all the noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College Piers is hopped up on Dr. Pepper and Five Hour Energys and everything sounds like a good idea  
> Might add more chapters later who knows  
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	2. It's all Fun and Games 'til the Heat gets Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris takes Piers up on her offer to meet for the not-so-fairly won cereal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup here goes here I go I'm doin' it I'm hooked.

Jill seemed all to glad to send Chris off to see his "girlfriend", as she'd so lovingly worded it.

"Tell her I said hi. Don't get into any trouble and always remember to wear a condom."

Chris warned her, solemn-faced, that she wouldn't be getting any cereal after all if she'd kept it up.

It was a Saturday. Piers had class every other day, just about, but still promised to save some cereal for him and his "wife". Surprisingly, the drive only took around ten minutes, landing him at an apartment complex only a short walk away from the college campus. That made sense. It was awfully convenient to have everything in walking distance, and that was likely how she'd been saving enough money to get a cart full of groceries at her leisure.

Parking out of the way, Chris called her to be sure it was the right place. She answered at the first ring.

"Hey Chris. That your truck outside? 'Cause you look kinda like a suit."

"Yeah-- a suit?"

"I'm in the shower right now so my roommate'll let you in. We're 207, see you in a bit!"

"Hey, wait--"

She'd hung up before Chris could ask anymore questions, leaving him to stare blankly at his phone. If she was about to show him the same side of her he'd seen at the store, this was going to be a big mistake. Yet still, apprehensive, Chris stepped out of the truck (taking a moment to look around when he felt eyes on him) and went in search of their door. He wound up on the second floor of the complex, in front of the 207 Piers had told him of. The door swung open just as he was raising his hand to knock.  
A short-haired blond girl looked up at him for a moment from the door frame before smiling.

"You're Chris, right? Come in."

Still smiling, she moved aside to allow him in, invited him to get comfy.

"This is a nice place."

Chris commented, taking a quick look around from his seat on the couch. The blond took a second to check the time before responding.

"Thanks, I found it myself. Me and my first roommate picked out the furniture. But _those_ ," She gestured with her head toward the gun wrack in the living room that Chris seemed to be admiring. "Are _hers_. I'm not 'allowed' to touch them. Oh, I'm Sherry, by the way."

"Nice meeting you, Sherry."

After a quick handshake, Sherry seemed bewildered.

"Holy crap, she beat _you_ up? I mean, no offense, but you're kinda huge."

"It was 4AM, alright? And I wasn't about to beat up some 20-something college student."

"Alright, that's fair. Excuse me for a moment."

Chris nodded as Sherry disappeared down the hall, taking another look around the fairly small living room. He jumped at the sound of banging.

" _Piers hurry the hell up! Your guest is here!_ "

" _Chill the fuck out Sherry, I'm fucking naked!_ "

After an audible groan, Sherry returned like nothing happened.

"Sorry about that. Want anything to drink?"

"Uh, no, I'm fine. Thanks."

"Okay. Sorry to rush but I gotta get going. If she takes too long in the shower just turn on the cold water in the kitchen sink, that ought to get her."

"Right..."

Sherry was gone with small wave and another smile. It was only a five minute wait before Piers emerged from the hallway, once again sporting sweats, but this time paired with a crop top and a still damp towel over her shoulders.

"Sorry about her."

"Sherry? She's nice. You two get along?"

"Kinda. But she's just kinda mad because I eat her out better than her boyfriend."

"So you two _are_ involved, then?"

"Huh?"

"The grapes?"

"Ugh, no. I just bought the grapes because she likes grapes, okay?"

Piers strolled over to the other side of the couch, dropping down next to Chris.

"I don't need to bribe her with grapes just to get in her pants. I can do that whenever."

She reached between the couch cushions in search of the remote. With more skin exposed, Chris could see that she wasn't as harmless as he'd first thought. She was lean, but she still had nicely toned abs and defined arms. It was a wonder how she kept in shape with her diet.

"You checking me out, Chris?"

"You go to the college down the street, right?"

"Yes, good observation."

Piers propped her foot up onto the couch, throwing an arm around the back. She was immediately flipping through channels when the TV switched on.

"What do you study?"

"Engineering."

"That's pretty impressive."

His eyes wandered down, just noticing that her crop top was simply a shirt bearing the college's logo that she'd trimmed to her liking. 

"Eyes up here cowboy, the peep show ain't free."

"Sorry. That's a nice shirt."

"What's inside is even nicer."

She teased, dragging down the neck of the top slightly with her free hand.

"If I was checking you out I'd have just told you. Besides, I just came over here for the cereal."

"Right, let's get you that then."

She stood, motioning for Chris to follow as she made her way to the kitchen. Most of the counter space was covered with empty soda cans, a single of the two basins of the sink bearing the same treatment. The opposite basin was filled to the brim with dishes.

"Sorry about the mess, no one cleans up around here."

"You only have one roommate. If she doesn't do it, you ought to."

"Whaaat?"

Piers closed the dishwasher with her foot after retrieving a bowl, faking an incredulous look.

"Why _me_? I work hard, too."

"You seem to be a little more trouble than her."

She scoffed halfheartedly.

"You keep that talk up and you'll be walking out of here with your wife's cereal in your _hands_."

"Whatever." Chris watched her pour a portion of the cereal into a zip bag. "What did you wanna do when you graduated?"

Chris didn't miss her sigh. She was probably asked that a million times.

"I dunno, army probably. My dad and my granddad were in the army, so I guess it makes sense."

"Did your dad want a son?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Your name is 'Piers'. It's kind of on the nose."

"Well yeah. They really wanted a boy, and I guess they just settled for me. I mean, not that I feel like they don't love me or something. It's just..."

Her attitude from earlier looked like more of an act now. She idled by the counter, absently counting through the various silverware in one of the drawers.

"You should be doing what _you_ want to do. Don't let anyone pressure you into being something that you aren't."

"It's not like I _hate_ the idea, I mean...I kinda wanted to be a cop, too."

"Really?"

Chris barely held back a laugh, having an even harder time when Piers looked up at him, clearly offended.

" _Yeah_. There a problem with that?"

"No, it's just ironic."

"Iron--no, don't fucking tell me..."

She blanched, her face somewhere on the spectrum near full out terror. Chris continued on casually.

"I just happen to be the captain of this precinct, actually."

"Oh my fucking god. I beat up a fucking cop."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's so much I should be doing right now and I'm doing none of it. (ง︡’-‘︠)ง


	3. Long Island Iced Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piers gets drunk and spills her guts, twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going out for drinks with someone you just met who is easily 10 or more years apart from you in age??? Probably never a good idea.

Piers braced herself against the counter, eyes wide in a reaction that was much more dramatic than it needed to be. Chris didn't seem to mind, however, still trying to keep from laughing.

"I'm not gonna arrest you or anything, so--"

"I beat up a fucking _cop_. My mom is gonna fucking _wreck_ me."

While she continued to panic, Chris allowed himself to laugh. Piers seemed almost too shocked to think of anything aside from her impending punishment, reaching for anything to say.

"Does your wife know about this?"

"She should. She _is_ the sheriff."

"What the _fuck_? I beat up the sheriff's _husband_? Just fucking kill me right now..."

"Please, it isn't that bad. I forgive you, and she thought it was hilarious."

"If you're the police captain then why the fuck were you at the grocery store at 3AM? You didn't have any work or somethin' to be doing? Please just say you're fucking with me and this isn't real so I can kick you out of my apartment."

"I'm on leave, actually. It's kind of what happens after you get shot in the leg while off-duty."

"Wh--"

She froze again, the realization of who she was talking to glazing over the terror for just a moment. Piers looked Chris over, hoping she wasn't shaking.

"Redfield? Captain Redfield? That was _you_?"

"So you've heard?"

"It was all over the fucking news, of course I've fucking heard. Why the hell didn't you say something when I offered to fight you? Hell, why didn't you _arrest_ me?"

"It didn't have a very nice ring to it."

" _What_?"

"'Captain who was honorably put on leave for stopping a potential shooting gets manhandled by a female college student at the local shopping mart'. What kind of headline is that, right?"

Piers took a step back as Chris came forward to retrieve the bag of cereal from the counter. She was shocked into a stupor, in front of someone she'd basically idolized from afar after hearing of him. Damn the police databases for not having a quality picture of him anywhere. Maybe that would have stopped her from making a fool of herself in front of him. Maybe that would have kept her from (what she saw as) ruining her whole life.

Who would accept a delinquent like her into any police academy? She'd beaten up a police captain at 4AM over a box of cereal--a _wounded_ police captain, at that. Even if he promised not to tell anyone, Piers was sure that word would spread of her. That's just how cops were. They stayed in the loop, knew when things went down. That would be a heavy mark on her record for the rest of her life. "The girl who beat up a police captain with a bum leg over a shitty box of cereal". Where the fuck could she crawl to to die?

"I think you're overreacting."

Piers looked up at Chris. She'd gotten on the floor at some point, and wasn't sure how. Meanwhile, just as casual as ever and likely having fun, Chris helped himself to a few bites of the cereal. It was better than he'd expected, surprisingly.

"Go ahead and kill me."

"You're a promising young woman with your whole life ahead of you, I'm not killing you."

Piers stood, using the wall as support. She didn't even _want_ cereal anymore. With a quick scan of his face, she could see now that this was the guy in all of those grainy, pixelated photos online. This was the guy in the video who'd tackled a gunman to the ground without even thinking about it. 

"I need a drink."

She surprised him with that, the look in her eyes dead-serious.

"Let me get this cereal back to my 'wife' first. Then we can go out."

...

Piers groaned for the umpteenth time, putting her head back against the headrest. Chris only seemed to be more and more amused by her reaction.

"I still can't believe you're a fucking cop, and the fucking _captain_ too. I feel so fucking stupid."

"It's fine."

"No it's _not_."

She folded her arms and slid down as far as she could in the seat. Jill decided against coming with them, claiming she wanted Chris to have some "quality time" with his "girlfriend" when it was more likely that she was just swamped with paperwork. Piers had asked Sherry, but she'd apparently had a 25-page paper due for an online class that she had yet to start, and realized that getting wasted wasn't the best way to stay productive.

It was strangely comfortable with just the two of them. It was only about a week ago they'd met, but they were already close enough to go out for drinks.

" _I like to go out on Saturdays anyway,_ " Piers reasoned. " _It's no different, just someone to drive me home so I don't have to take a cab._ "

Just from that, Chris was sure of how the evening would turn out. Looks like he'd be the designated driver.

Piers nearly jumped from the truck when they parked, ready to drown out all the idiocy from their first encounter. Chris was a few good steps behind, and she hurried him, to his amusement. She was immediately at the bar, waving her hand for a bartender and apparently coming up with someone she knew.

"Piers, good seeing you again. The usual?"

"I need a long island iced tea, Chelsea."

"Uh, whoa. You got someone you trust getting you home tonight?"

On cue, Chris settled in the seat next to Piers', leaning on to the bar.

"Yeah, him."

Chelsea paused, looking unsure.

"Relax, he's a cop."

"Alright, I'll take your word for it. What'll you be having tonight, sir?"

"A roy rogers is fine."

"Coming right up."

Chelsea turned to start on their drinks with a smile. Still out of it, Piers put her head into her hands, groaning.

"So, you've been a cop for a while, huh?"

"Yeah, good observation."

Piers' glare got a smirk in return.

"Did you always wanna be a cop?"

"Not really. Didn't know what I wanted to be for a long time, actually. I was more worried about taking care of my sister."

"What's your sister's name?"

Piers looked up to accept her drink, pausing for a moment to try it. Chris followed suit.

"Claire."

"Claire Redfield...That kinda sounds familiar. She's not, like, the Major or anything, is she?"

Chris chuckled in response to the question, partially joking but still somewhat serious.

"No, she's not. She likes to try her hand at a little bit of everything, so maybe you've heard of her somewhere. She tried out the air force back when I enlisted, but it wasn't really her thing."

"You were on the _air force_? Can you just give me a full rundown of your history right now so I don't get anymore surprises?"

"Nothing much else, really. I served for a few years, then came down here and started off as a cop."

"Ugh. I'm still so mad about all this. It's not like I _needed_ that cereal or anything."

There were a few moments of silence as the two continued working on their drinks. Piers' attention had been drawn to the screen above the bar that was broadcasting sports. She didn't care much about the teams, but she was still glued to the screen. Chris caught himself looking her over again. He wasn't too surprised that she'd decided to wear a flannel shirt, it seemed like her.The form-fitting jeans seemed to be a new addition, however, seeing as she'd only been wearing what looked like it barely fit.

He convinced himself to look away, instead examining the screen. 

"Holy shit, that team fucking sucks."

"The Broncos?"

Piers leaned back, propped against Chris' shoulder.

"I guess. I can't see the names."

"You alright?"

"I'm not drunk yet. I only had a little."

When Chris checked, her drink was already half empty.

"You ever have one of those before?"

"What? A Long Island?"

She tilted her head up to look at him, still against his shoulder.

"No. Sherry's boyfriend told me about 'em once, though. He's a douchebag, so I figured he knew how to get fucked up."

"Is that so..."

Shrugging, Piers finished off the rest of the drink, placing it back on the bar before picking out one of the ice cubes.

"He likes to order his 'extra long', though. Dunno what that means. He's fuckin' crazy."

She dropped the ice back into the glass, going instead for the slice of lemon that still hung on the edge. She bit off the insides and peered back up at the television, seeing even less than before. The screen was more a mess of colors than any sort of recognizable pattern, but it didn't seem to matter much. Chris paid for the drink, already seeing that she'd had enough, and ordered a water for himself.

"I can't believe a cop took me to the bar."

"It was _your_ idea, wasn't it?"

"Still, though. A _cop_ took me to the bar. That's so fucked up."

Piers crossed her arms to play with the buttons at the ends of her sleeves. She was content to keep leaning against Chris' arm, it seemed.

"Don't cops usually, like, have to take people _away_ from bars? This is like, the _antithesis_ of what you usually do, right?"

"'Antithesis'?"

Chris leaned back against her some, amused at her rambling.

"Yeah. I dunno. I think I'm drunk, Chris. Holy shit."

Her eyes widened, like it was a new development.

"I had _one drink_ , Chris. How'm I drunk already?"

"It was a pretty strong drink."

"Jake says he has these all the time. Jake's _really_ fucking crazy."

"So I've heard."

"M'serious, Chris."

She finally leaned up, choosing instead to face Chris in her seat.

"How th'fuck can he drink these? I had _one_."

"He's a heavier drinker, I suppose."

"Ugh. This' fucked up though."

She wasn't on her own for long, deciding to lean her head into his chest, still mumbling about how 'fucked up' the situation was. Chelsea looked their way from across the bar, mouthing an 'is she okay?' with a concerned expression. Chris reassured that she'd be fine, and paid for his own drink, leaving his number on a napkin under the tip so Chelsea knew who to call if she was still worried. With a little effort, Chris coaxed Piers out of her seat.

"Come on, you need to get back home."

"M' so fucked up, Chris."

"Yeah, I know."

They'd made it safely outside before Piers started to lag, claiming she couldn't feel her feet anymore and that she needed to be carried. And she was, through most of the parking lot.

"Alright, time to get in."

"No, let's stay here, Chris."

"You need to get back so you can sleep off all that alcohol."

"I had _one drink_. What are you, the cops? Oh wait, oops."

Chris attempted to get her grounded again in the middle of her laughing fit, but only wound up with her wrapped around him.

"Piers,"

"C'mon Chris, don' put me down. I can't feel my legs."

"I thought you couldn't feel your feet?"

"Yeah, them neither. Don't put me down, Chris."

"Don't you want to get home before it gets too late? Isn't Sherry worried about you?"

He tried to pry her off, unable to loosen her grip.

"I'll go if you do somethin' for me first, Chris."

"Okay, what is it?"

"You gotta fuck me, Chris."

He had to admit that it caught him off guard, but even more so when she held on tighter, her thighs already around his waist.

"I didn't think you were attracted to men."

"I'm _bi_ , Chris. And don't pretend you weren't checkin' me out anyway."

"Pardon?"

"I know you're always lookin'. You might be a good cop, but you aren't very good at bein' discrete~."

Piers wrapped her arms around his neck, forehead against his. A streetlight just barely illuminated his face, but Piers could hardly keep her eyes focused anyway.

"C'mon Chris, fuck me in th'back of your truck. That'd be hot. Or right here, against the side, that's fine too."

"You don't even know me that well, and you want to sleep with me?"

"Don't start the fucking good-guy act with me, Chris. When's the next time you're gonna get to fuck a college girl who ain't a prostitute? Jus' do it now so you can get it out of the way and leave."

"What are you talking about?"

Piers held on tighter, making an attempt at getting her eyes focused on something.

"You're just like every older guy I've been with. You wanna fuck me just to get it out of your system. You're just done seein' girls my age with their tits out on a computer screen where you can't touch 'em. Well, here's your fuckin' chance."

"Where's all this coming from?"

In the moment of silence, Chris expected to get an answer. Piers pulled him closer for a moment and seemed to be drawing a blank. 

"...I dunno."

She finally let go of him, sliding back to the ground. She could stand, unsteady, but at least she could stand.

"It doesn' matter, jus' take me back home."

He waited, watching her. She kept her eyes down, determined not to meet his gaze. Seeing it as pointless battle, Chris unlocked the truck doors and let her in. She was buckled in, feet up against the dashboard as he slid into the driver's seat.

They were a few minutes away from the bar before she spoke up again.

"I dated a guy my age once, in high school."

She shifted in her seat. It wasn't comfortable anymore.

"Senior year. His name was Finn. Always used to hold open doors for me, and it pissed me the fuck off. He knew it, too. I kept telling him not to do it anymore, and he'd just smile like a fuckin' idiot and say 'okay'. He knew he was gonna do it again anyway..."

Piers paused for a moment, looking out the window.

"His dad wanted him to join the army, too. Think they said they were gonna disown 'im if he didn't. I didn't think he cared for a long time, but...He enlisted right after we graduated. He kept tellin' me it was because he wanted to, not 'cause of his parents, but he wussa shitty liar. He wrote to me, all the way up 'til last year, in January."

She waited once again, running her hands up along her thighs and resting them at her knees.The dashboard seemed to catch her gaze and hold it.

"I didn't get anythin' for a few weeks. He didn't really keep me up with the situation or whatever, didn' want me to worry. Of course I'm gonna fuckin' worry...His sister told me, anyway. They found out a few days earlier. KIA. And I didn't cry or anythin'. Think I was just in shock. Sherry said I was just standin' by the door for a few minutes, starin' off into space. I didn' wanna think it was real."

Chris was silent, eyes on the road while he waited for her to continue. For another long moment, the car was quiet. They were parked in front of the apartment complex before Piers started speaking again.

"I try t'act like I'm tough shit, like nothin' ever bothers me. But I think about that shit ev'ry night. Finn was a nice guy, didn wanna cause trouble for anyone. Why couldn' they just be okay with that? They sent him off and he's fuckin' _dead_ now."

"I'm sure they think about it every day."

"Yeah, n' it's fucked up. They kept tellin' him he didn't mean anything to 'em if he wasn't in the army. They made 'im go out there and now he's dead."

She finally brought her feet down from the dashboard.

"He didn' want that. Finn was such a good guy. I bet if he could come back to life he'd just spend the rest of his time apologizn' to all the people who went to his funeral."

"Is that why you don't want to enlist?"

Piers hesitated.

"I wanna help people, okay? But I keep thinkin' about his sister 'n all those people who showed up to the memorial, everythin' they said about him bein' "too young" and a "good kid". You don't just die out there, you're dyin' a million miles away from everyone who cares about you. He didn' even wanna go..."

Running her hand along the door to find the handle, Piers let herself out, still unsteady on her feet. Chris stepped out to round the truck and help her stand.

"I'm _never_ goin' out drinkin' with a cop _again_."

They'd started down the walkway, towards the stairs.

"I think you're safer just sticking with light beer, regardless of who you're drinking with."

Unlike the first time it took a few knocks before the door was open. Sherry opened the door clad in a plain t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, not having known what to expect based on her expression.

"Oh, Chris. You two didn't...?"

"Shut-up Sherry, I wanna go t' bed."

Piers stumbled past the door frame, making her way down the hall with one hand braced against the wall before she vanished into her room. There was an awkward silence between Sherry and Chris as the blond pieced things together in her head. She turned back to Chris, arms folded over her chest.

"You're not married, are you?"

"You too now? No, I'm not married."

"Then how come...I mean usually..."

Sherry turned back to the hall.

"I wasn't going to take advantage of her, if that's what you were wondering."

The blond whipped her head back around. Her eyes went wide.

"No--I mean _of course_ not. That'd be messed up. It's just that she really has a thing for older men, so I figured you two would be--y'know--mixin' it up."

"Beg pardon?"

"Uh...you know what, never mind." She tried for an awkward smile. "Just--thanks for getting her home safe, sorry about the trouble."

Chris' response was cut off by the sounds of Piers heaving from her room. Sherry's expression quickly turned to worry.

"Well, I gotta go check on her, so, goodnight!"

"Yeah, night."

Even after the door was closed, Chris stayed, leaning against the wall. He'd expected cereal, maybe some conversation, but he'd dug himself into a deeper hole than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow things got outta hand fast.


End file.
